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Experimental Brownies

I wish I had a proper story to pen down. But today I just want to know why the hell I have to put up with an unstable parent everyday. It’s worse than a major break-up with your perfect guy or a 7 day food poisoning. It’s gotten so bad I don’t want to live in this house anymore. But that’s just wishful thinking.

I don’t know why I’m writing this down on the internet. But I have to say, 2 years is too long, too much to handle. Friends can sympathize but they can’t empathize. No one in a 20 foot radius can genuinely understand. They don’t live with it. Sometimes I read through life stories of other children going through the same situation. It helps, occasionally. But what will really help is this whole thing to end.

I’m not counting on it.

Laughter is my medicine. And so is the company of my dog. I can’t let myself snap because of someone else. I haven’t done wrong so how is that fair. Though it feels like I’m losing someone to an illness, I’d hate to continue feeling this way. Life goes on.

Meanwhile, I’m happy to bake stuff for some pocket money, mess around in a bistro’s kitchen (ok not really), goof around during random photo shoots (really really) and look forward to an upcoming internship.

Case in point, that’s the problem when you read between the lines too much. It isn’t really necessary all the time. I think I’ve revealed enough.

I’ll try to write happier pieces in future. So now, on a happier note, here is a recent experiment I tried with brownies. I found a basic fudgey brownie recipe, tweaked here and there, added this and that, and came up with something nothing short of amazing. At least, to the people I shared with, they were good. As the best is yet to be, I’m very certain these can still be better.

These aren’t your typical cakey or really chewy brownies. They are so moist, and melt in your mouth…well, they are the perfect breakfast dessert alongside your hot latte. They may not have weed inside, but then again, they sure are a batch of happy brownies. Here’s to a better and happier day ahead, because it will always be so someday.

experimental brownies part 1

makes an 8 x 8 inched

NB: They tasted just as good on the 2nd day, and a little firmer too.

As brown sugar contains molasses, you will have a little sour tang in them.

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3 thoughts on “Experimental Brownies”

I have been beaten with everything from a cane to a golf club.
Been rubbed with chilli padi all over my body, on dozens upon dozens of occasions.
Threatened and poked with knives.
Had things of sentimental value burned in front of me.
Thrown out of the house for shit I didn’t do.
Had an iron held millimetres from my face.
Be subject to her mind games when their marriage was on the rocks.
Held emotionally hostage when she sat on the window ledge, openly contemplating suicide, if I didn’t take her side or obey her.
Oh, and all the shit that comes out of her mouth when she’s distraught.
And be caught, conflicted; within the see-saw between her unbridled anger/emotions and her remorseful/caring/slick words that she had for me when she calmed down.

All of that, as a kid to my early teens.

I have had sympathy all bled out of me. But empathy – I probably have that in spades, albeit only on this occasion.

The law of large numbers dictates that someone has to suffer such a relatively undesirable fate, so even if you do not slake your thirst for solace by the fact that others have been through much worse and survived (read: ‘A Child Called “It”‘), you still have to accept your fate and just suffer it through, using whatever means you have at your disposal – because before the ‘next’ or ‘tomorrow’ there is the ‘now’.

Say whatever you have to say, do whatever you have to do, to stay sane whilst (if you can) keeping on eye on the future and staying aware of the consequences of your actions.

Escapism, cowardice, revenge, spite – whatever others may call it – at least you have not gone mad/reached the end of your tether, from having doggedly trying to milk the good in mankind out of a hormone-induced, multi-year, illogical rage.

Unfortunately, I do not have any better advice to give – none that would lead to magically happy ending anyway.